Goodnight, My Porcelain Doll
by Vamptress RayZor
Summary: Reffie. RY Yuno. She had a disease that should have killed her within the first five years of her life. She had a death wish while fighting Sephiroth. Now that she's gone, her friends remember her as she was and her husband wishes she was still there.


_**"Goodnight, My Porcelain Doll"**_

_RayZor_

_Disclaimer: I don't own any characters, places, etc. They all belong to Square Soft AKA Square Enix._

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_Even as I walked, with the people around me shaking with fear, I refused to be afraid. I was my own strength. I needed no one. Everyone else there pulled their courage from someone or something else. For a daughter, a lover, a silly crush, redemption, atonement, need for revenge, pride... They all had to pull their strengths from whatever, but I only had myself._

_Barret always drew strength and courage from his daughter, Marlene, and Cid had Shera back in Rocket Town to think of. Reeve sought to redeem himself in our eyes whereas Vincent sought atonement for sins which I never believed were his fault to begin with (Damned Lucrecia). Tifa followed Cloud like a lost puppy, Cloud craved revenge for Aeris's brutal murder. Poor Nanaki was along for the ride, only wanting to make his father and his grandfather proud._

_I was walking with them because I could, yet I didn't have to. If I turned and high-tailed it outta that creepy-ass crater, no one would blame me. No one would speak ill of me, but they would continue with their mission. Vincent asked me why I tagged along, why I didn't leave and return to the life he presumed I wanted. I merely smiled and continued walking between the stoic gunman and the fiery lion-like beast. I guess I never really thought we'd win. I'm not sure that I wanted us to win._

_I never expected us to make it out alive._

_**"I so desperately wanted to die a hero..."**_

_-------------- A decade later -------------_

The blonde man walked into Wutai for the first time in nearly five years. The oranges, yellows, and reds of the town made him think of the funeral pyre they would all watch burn within forty-eight hours... The mere thought made him cringe. He drew strength from his memories, though, and made his way through the too-quiet village to the palace, where Tifa and Nanaki were waiting.

Tifa had only grown more conservative with age, her physical appearance unchanged. She smiled at him from the porch, her once all-too-revealing mini-skirt and half-tank now replaced with a long, deep purple sun dress, her hair shorter and tucked behind her ears. The ensemble, in all, was too somber for the usually happy woman. Then again, funerals had that awful side-effect of sadness.

"She was so young," was all that she managed to choke out before closing her eyes tightly against the tears that once again threatened to leak from those maroon orbs.

Nanaki nuzzled her hand comfortingly. "Not as young as some, Tifa," he said in soothing tones - or as soothing as his rather gruff voice could be. "She suffered much in her last few weeks, Tifa. You remember her pained sobs."

Cloud shook his head. "I didn't know anything about it... I didn't know anything was wrong with her," he admitted, sounding angry with himself for having never known.

"No one did," drawled a red head from the doorway leading into the palace. "She tol' me nevah ta tell... I married 'er knowin' 'bout it... Knowin' wha' could happen." He lit a cigarette and inhaled the sweet nicotine his body had been craving. "T'was a disease tha' she'd been born wit'. Dey gave 'er fi' yea's a' mos'."

_(**A/N: since I made his dialect a li'l hard to understand, I'll interpret after everything he says in italics**. "She told me never to tell... I married her knowing about it. Knowing what could happen. It was a disease that she'd been born with. They gave her five years at most.")_

"How can you talk about this so casually?" Tifa demanded of the red-haired Lord of Wutai.

He shot her a minty green glare. "She die' like she wan'ed tah, Lockheart. She die' a hero!" He closed his eyes against the tears. "She 'elped re'such 'er own disease, 'elped fin' a way tah ease da pain. D'ya know 'ow many people she 'elped?"

_(She died like she wanted to , Lockheart. She died a hero. She helped research her own disease, helped find a way to ease the pain. Do you know how many people she helped?")_

Cloud swallowed back the lump in his throat that was often called an urge to cry by some. "She once told me... That she only fought Sephiroth because she thought... she thought that she would die. She said that she wanted to die a hero." He sighed. "I've never met a more heroic woman in my life. She was sixteen and faced the wrath of a near-god."

Reno smirked at him. "She wa' brave, strong, an' brillian' wit'out anyone's 'elp. 'Er independence wa' what kept 'er alive fer twenty-six yea's."

_("She was brave, strong, and brilliant without anyone's help. Her independence was what kept her alive for twenty-six years.")_

Eventually, Cid, Barret and Vincent showed up, reeve making it later that night. AVALANCHE - or what remained of the once-awesome rebel group - sat on the palm of Da Chao, tolerating the Turks well enough for their friend, who had been friends with Elena and Rude for the eight years she and Reno had been together. They swapped stories of the ninja, laughing and crying at the memories that were both painful and warming. The night was cold with its bitter winds nipping at them tauntingly, but their memories gave them the strength to sit around the campfire until six-thirty the next morning. One-by-one, they left until only Cloud sat there. He stared into the blazing fire and saw a sixteen-year-old ninja grinning back at him.

"You got your wish, Yuffie. You died like a hero. We'll miss you... I'll miss you, my little sister."

The blonde stood and contemplated putting out the fire since dawn had come and gone, leaving the vibrant blue sky stretching overhead.

_"Sunrises are like a new beginning, you know? It's like starting a new chapter every time you see one - a sunrise, I mean."_

_Cloud stared at the newest member of the group - a hyper-active ninja and materia hunter whom he had yet to give his trust to - with a disbelieving stare. She was, as she had told them, only sixteen. How could a sixteen-year-old such as Yuffie Kisaragi produce such a beautiful, if vivid, analogy?_

_She looked down at him from her perch amongst the tree branches inquisitively. "What?"_

_The blonde leader let out a breath in a half-chuckle, a smile gracing his ruggedly handsome face as he shook his head. "Nothing... Just thinking."_

_She raised an eyebrow. "My friend, Derek, used to say that'll give ya wrinkles."_

_"What will?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow._

_"Thinking," she replied simply, leaping from the branch gracefully and putting out the fire._

He sighed. She should have told him. If she had given him some sort of fore-warning, then he could have helped her!

"Ya di' 'elp 'er," Reno said from the path.

_(You did help her.)_

Cloud scratched the back of his head in an awkward way. "Did I say that out loud?" Reno nodded. "Oh..."

Reno lit up another cigarette and took a drag, exhaling slowly. "'Cause ya letter go wit' ya'll, she lived longuh. Dat's what I t'ink 'n'way. Yuffie wa'n't some'ne ta si' back an' let a d'sease gitter down, y'know?"

_(Because you let her go with you all, she lived longer. That's what I think anyway. Yuffie wasn't someone to sit back and let a disease get her down, you know?)_

Cloud noticed that the less sleep the Turk had, the worse his drawl got, making him harder to understand. "C'mon, Reno," he said softly. "We both need sleep." Under his breath, he added, "At least she'll still be with us in our dreams."

Reno shrugged off the gloved hand on his shoulder. "Ah'll be 'long a'ter bit."

_(I'll be along after bit)_

Cloud caught the air off needing to be alone and understood it well enough. Nodding, he left the red head and still-burning campfire on the palm of Da Chao. After he was gone, Reno sat cross-legged in front of the slowly dying flames.

"Ah miss ya, dawl," he murmured.

_(I miss you, doll.)_

A breeze caused the bright flames to dance higher and his crimson tresses to blow back away from his face. He closed his eyes and savored the wind like it was a feathery light kiss from a deceased wife. Oh, how he wished it was. He longed to have her in his arms, but... He leaned back, his hands holding him up, eyes still closed, wind blowing his long ponytail back behind him and keep long bangs out of his eyes.

_She sat with her legs dangling off the edge, watching the quaint little village below her as she spoke. He was standing scarcely ten feet behind her, eyes never leaving her relaxed figure._

_"You're willing to take on the responsibilities of ruling Wutai?" she asked, eyes watching a few children playing ball in the street._

_"Yuffie, I love ya. B'lieve me, Ah kin take on 'n'thing fer ou' love." The light reflected off a tear on his girlfriend's cheek. "Wha's wrong, dawl?"_

(Yuffie, I love you. Believe me, I can take on anything for our love. What's wrong, doll?)

_She turned and looked at him with troubled gray eyes. "If I tell you... You can't tell anyone. Not Tifa or cloud, not Elena or Rude, not even Shake or Chekov."_

_"I promise. Wha's wrong, dawl?"_

(I promise. what's wrong, doll?)

_She sniffed loudly and drew her knees up to her bosom. "I have a disease, Ree. I'm not even supposed to be alive right now... I was diagnosed when I was born..."_

"I thought ta coul' beat it, dawl. Ah really did. Guess Ah was wrong. Forgive me, dawl."

_(I thought you could beat it, doll. I really did. Guess I was wrong. Forgive me, doll.)_

He opened his eyes and stared at the quickly dying embers of what had been a fair-sized campfire. It, in a way, symbolized his deceased lover. It had started off so small and weak, but became so warm and inviting. and now... Now it was dying slowly, wanting so badly to survive. Just like his porcelain doll, like his Yuffie.

_The twenty-year-old glared at her spit fire comrade. "Don't say a word," she warned him with a nasty glare. She wore the traditional garb of a Wutain princess, complete with painted white face and ruby lips. She had just become co-ruler of Wutai._

_Reno cocked a grin. "I kept quie' all duh was t'rough duh ceremony, dahlin'. I t'ink s'my turn tuh say somet'in'."_

(I kept quiet all the way through the ceremony, darling. I think it's my turn to say something.)

_She grimaced. "You're tired, Ree. Go to bed. And, please, spare me your chauvinistic comments."_

_His grin never wavered as he pulled her to him, an arm around her waist. "Ya look jus' like a porcelain dawl, swee'heart." She looked up at him pouting, but he kissed her gently. When they separated, she giggled madly._

_(You look just like a porcelain doll, sweetheart.)_

_"Your lips are a lovely shade of red."_

"Good night, dawl... My porcelain dawl. My heroic, beautiful, strong dawl."

_**Goodnight, my porcelain doll.**_

_**R: So, that's my depressing story of the day... If you want the whole story behind the "porcelain doll" bit, just tell me in a review. Ciao-ness.**_


End file.
